Amortentia
by a-ufo-party
Summary: Taking her hand, Tom pressed it to his lips. "I am obsessed with you, Merope. This child joins us together. We will never be parted." He wrapped his arms around her. Reassured, Merope decided not to put the Amortentia in his tea the next morning. Tom loved her, this much she knew. Also, what was the worst that could happen? (A tale of love, death, and the birth of Tom Riddle Jr.)


**Rated T for character death and mild language. Nothing very severe, but I always like to warn people, just in case.**

* * *

Merope Gaunt studied her reflection in the aged mirror hanging on the wall of her bedroom. Turning sideways, she pressed one hand on her waist and the other on her back, examining her stomach. She couldn't deny it any longer. She was with child. With each passing day, she could feel it growing. Holding back tears, she tossed a shawl over her shoulders. It hid her middle well enough. Nervously, she glanced at Tom Riddle's sleeping form. His relaxed face was beautiful in slumber. A strong chin, bold eyebrows, hair like the night sky; all traits Merope dreamed their future children would have. She hoped with all her heart that they would not take after her, with stringy hair, crossed eyes, and a wiry frame. But, she wasn't ready to have children yet. It was far too soon. With a glance at the clock, she realized that Tom would wake in a minute. Walking across the small room, past the bed they shared, to the glowing fire, she took the kettle off the flame. After placing tea in a cup, she poured the boiling water over it. Then, she drew a small bottle of Amortentia from her bodice. Her stomach dropped when she noticed how dangerously empty it felt. Pushing her fear aside, she uncorked it. The smell of gingerbread, oranges, and Tom's cologne reached her nose. Carefully, she tilted the vile, sending two drops into the steaming beverage. Then, she quickly returned it to her bodice.

"Wha- Are you-?" Tom's confused voice mumbled from behind, causing her to jump. Quickly, she grabbed the tea and handed it to him.

"Drink." She whispered, staring longingly at his face.

With a moments hesitation, he lifted the cup to his perfectly shaped lips and downed the liquid. After a minute, his dark eyes gained a dreamy quality.

"Good mourning, dearest." His voice sounded distant as he kissed Merope gently. She returned the embrace, noticing how strong his muscles felt beneath his sleeping cloths. It had been almost a year since they'd married, surely without the love potion he would still feel for her.

"Tom-" she began, pulling the shawl tighter about her shoulder. "Do you love me?"

"You are my everything." He said slowly, staring deep into her eyes.

Nodding, Merope held back tears and turned to the window. She had dreamed that life married to Tom would be different. She'd dreamed that she would be fulfilled, knowing the man she had pined after for so long was finally hers. But she couldn't feel joy in the situation.

For she knew that Tom was her prisoner, not her lover.

* * *

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the dark bedroom. As thunder crashed, Merope pulled her blanket tighter around her thin shoulders. There was a moan beside her.

"My love? Are you alright?" Tom murmured, rolling onto his side to face her.

"I'm...yes. I'm wonderful, because I have you." She replied half-heartedly.

"As am I. Sleep well." With that, he closed his eyes again. A few moments passed and anxiety grew in Merope's chest. Finally, she gave in.

"Tom?" She whispered shakily.

"Erm..wha...Er, yes dearest?" Lifting himself onto his elbow, he looked into her eyes.

"I just... I must tell you..."

"What is it? Please say it is not something so bad!" His soft hand made its way to her hollow cheek.

"I am with child!" She burst out. Instantly, she buried her face in her hands.

A moment if silence passed.

"Please, Tom. Say something!"

"This..." A smile grew on his face, "is wonderful news."

"Really?" She rubbed her eyes.

"Absolutely." Taking her hand, he pressed it to his lips. "I am obsessed with you, Merope. This child joins us together. We will never be parted."

With a cry of relief, she placed her head on his shoulder. "Never?"

"Never."

"Good night, Tom."

"Sleep well, dearest."

Reassured, Merope decided not to put the Amortentia in his tea the next morning.

Tom loved her, this much she knew.

Also, what was the worst that could happen?

* * *

Tom Riddle woke, confused. This was not his bed he lay in. Panicked, he threw off the covers and jumped to his feet on the cold, splintering floor.

"Are...are you alright, Tom?" A whimper sounded from the other side of the bed.

Heart beating fast, he stumbled backwards, falling onto the table behind him. "Who's there?"

"Y...y...you really don't remember me?" A thin, wiry girl rose uncertainly from the blankets. Suddenly, a horrible sensation flooded over Tom. He did know this girl. Memories from the previous night exploded in his head. She had said she was with child. He had told her he loved her. They were married.

He felt as though he were going to faint.

"You are a demon." He whispered.

"You- you just need some tea!" The girl stuttered, clumsily reaching for the kettle. His eyes fell to the ring on her hand.

"Damn it!" He cried, backing towards the door.

"Here! Drink this, Tom! You'll feel better!" By now, the girl was in tears, as she dumped the contents of a small bottle into the beverage.

"What's that you've put in there? Is it... Are you... You're a sorceress!" A hand flew to his mouth in horror.

"Please, Tom! Just-"

"Do not speak my name, you evil woman!" He shouted in disgust, grabbing the bread knife from the table.

"You would- you draw a weapon on your wife?" Her face filled with agony. "We are married, Tom! I am with child! You can't-"

"You are a magician! I will have no more of your foul trickery! I have lost a year if my life thanks to you! And-" his breath was heavy as something came over his eyes. "Cecilia! Why would I leave her for...for... for a hideous witch like you! I must go beg her to have me back!"

"You can not leave me!" Merope sobbed, running her hands frantically through her stringy hair.

"Silence! I will have nothing more to do with you!"

"Please!" She screamed, falling to the floor and clutching the bottom of his coat.

"Don't touch me!" He shouted. And with that, he kicked her away and ran out the door.

But, as he mounted the back of a horse and quickly rode off, he heard her screech, "Tom! You cannot escape this! The guilt of knowing you left your wife and child will eat away at you. But I will adore you until the day I die!"

* * *

It was New Years Eve, and a miserable one at that. Grey clouds smeared across the sky like wet paint, sending flurries of large snowflakes falling to the slushy ground. Mildred Cole was drawing the drapes on the last window at Wool's Orphanage, hoping to block out some of the chill. She had only just begun working at the shelter a month ago, and was already the head nursemaid. Faintly, a knock sounded at the front door. Slightly frustrated that someone would visit that late in the evening, she took her time walking down the hall, checking each room she passed to make sure the children were asleep. The person was probably drunk and had gotten lost finding their way home. Putting on her coat, she reached out and opened the door, bracing herself for the brutal temperature. Sure enough, a gust of wind bit at her face. When she was done cringing, she looked out in front of her. No one was there.

"Hello? Who knocked on this door? There are children sleeping!" She called out, annoyed.

"Please...help..." Someone moaned.

Looking down, Mildred saw a girl, not much older than herself, hunched over on the ground. The girl's stomach was large and she appeared to be in pain.

"Not another one." Mildred muttered, taking the girls arm and lifting her to her feet. "What's your name?"

"Merope." She whispered in reply. Then, she let out a yelp and fell forward. Mildred caught her and helped her to a mattress by the kitchen fire.

"I'll be right back, Merope. Concentrate on breathing slowly."

Merope nodded, her tears reflecting the dim, orange firelight. After a few minutes, Mildred returned with Mrs. Wool, the owner of the orphanage.

"Poor girl." The older woman clucked her tongue, "Fourth one this winter too. Mildred, boil some water. I do believe this baby is going to be born within the hour. How old are you, child?"

"Nineteen." Merope whispered hoarsely. Her face was very pale.

"She doesn't look too good. She doesn't look to good at all. If this girl lives, it will be a miracle." Mrs. Wool muttered, washing her hands in a bowl of water. "But we might just be able to save the baby."

The birth took all of twenty minutes. Mildred and Mrs. Wool rushed from the stove to fetch hot water, to the bed where Merope lay, to the closet to grab towels, to the well in the basement. Slowly, Merope's color drained more and more. By the last time she pushed, crying out in pain, her skin was a chalky white and her breath was ragged. Beads of swear poured down her face, collecting in a pool on her collarbone.

"Mildred, wrap the child in a blanket." Mrs. Wool whispered sadly, handing her the tiny infant.

"Wha- is...is..it a boy?" Merope panted, her voice weak.

"Yes. A healthy baby boy." Mrs. Wool soothed, pressing a cloth to the younger girl's head.

"Let me see him! I need to see my son!"

"Yes, of course. Mildred, show the girl her child."

Crouching beside the bed, Mildred held out the baby. Merope's shaking hand gently touched the infant's hair.

"He's got dark hair...like...like his father." She rasped.

"Yes, I dare say he will be quite the looker when he's grown." Mrs. Wool smiled.

"Yes...like his father. His...his father was beautiful."

"I'm sure he was."

"That is my...my wish. I wish that he will grow to look like his...like his father..."

"I've no doubt that he will, dear. Now, what shall his name be?"

"Tom...Tom Marvolo..." Merope's voice was barely audible.

"Mavolo? That's quite an interesting name. Very well."

"My son...will be...Tom Marvolo...Riddle. And he will be beautiful like his father...and he will be a great man..." Merope whispered with her last breath. And, before the words had gone cold in the air, her hand dropped. Her eyes lost their life.

And her child cried for the first time.

* * *

 **A/N** Thank you so very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Merope's story has always been one of my favorite parts in the entire Harry Potter book series, so I've been dying to write this since I started writing fanfiction. I was so very mad that they cut this out of the movie! It's such a beautifully tragic love story, that I was not expecting when I first read Half Blood Prince. I really hope I did it justice! Please review and favorite! And have a wonderful day! :)

Also, if you enjoyed this story, I have three other Harry Potter stories titled, "He Could Start Over" (A story about the Malfoy's court trial), "Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw" (A ChoXCedric story), and "The Survivors" (A Post Deathly Hallows A/U. This is my only Harry Potter story that is not a one shot, so please go and follow!) If you liked this, please go check 'em all out! Also, if you'd like to see more stories about the Gaunts, let me know in your review! I really like writing those characters. :)

Always,

~AsgardGuardian


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